


Take My Seat

by nerdqueenenterprise



Series: 100 Ways To Say 'I Love You' [8]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Pride Parades, hugh might be a tiny bit drunk and a lot bit gay, mentions of transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 12:50:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15315882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdqueenenterprise/pseuds/nerdqueenenterprise
Summary: Hugh gets drunk attending a Pride Parade with Paul, and he has some rather gay thoughts about his husband.





	Take My Seat

Hugh yawns softly as they finally make their way to the train station. He’s decidedly unsteady on his feet, and Paul can’t do much to steady him because he’s just as tipsy, and the hands they’re holding are sweaty, but that’s fine. When you’re married for five years, it’s okay that your partner has sweat glands. 

Especially because the night air is sweltering, occasionally belching out clouds of city-hot air at them, and they had too much to drink. Maybe especially Hugh.

Hugh stumbles, the heels clearly making him more unsteady with every step he takes on the cobblestones lining the street, but Paul steadies him with a little snicker.

“Husband, I think you’re drunk,” he says.

There’s a slight thickness to his speech that clearly betrays how he isn’t entirely sober anymore either, but Hugh is an even weighter light - lighter weight - more lightweight? than Paul, and he’s wearing heels.

“You’re very pretty,” he responds instead. “When you - when you have moon in your eyes. God, I love you.”

Paul kisses him, hand pressing against Hugh’s abs making him remember that he lost his shirt sometime, somewhere today, but there’s still the flag making a makeshift cape around his neck, and then Paul opens Hugh’s lips and lets his tongue slip in and Hugh forgets thinking for a while.

 

 

 

 

They make it to the subway station with Hugh’s ankles mostly intact. There had been a really good reason for why he wanted to wear heels and a skirt to the pride parade, and now he doesn’t remember it anymore, but Paul’s hand keeps straying to his ass and Hugh is drunk on alcohol and love and being gay and he can’t stop kissing Paul messily because Paul tastes good and Hugh loves him so much.

Admittedly, Paul tastes of stale alcohol and unbrushed teeth, but he’s fixing Hugh’s pride flag cape and that’s really nice of him and his shirt is still all glittery ever since Hugh dragged him into a glitter bomb fight and glitter looks great on Paul.

“Come on, train’s here,” Paul says against his lips, pulling away from Hugh and tugging him into the carriage.

It’s surprisingly full, and they only find one seat, and even though Hugh is drunk and his feet are aching from having been in heels the entire day, he still tries to push Paul down into it because his love deserves everything in the entire whole world and if love expresses itself in giving up sitting, then that’s just how it is, and fuck the Greek ideal because Paul is perfect and he really loves him.

Paul snorts. A few other commuters applaud.

“That was a lovely speech, Hugh, but please take the seat because if you break your ankles we can’t have sex later.”

His love is also really really smart and Hugh loves him.

 

 

 

 

They don’t have sex even though Hugh doesn’t break his ankles because they’re really tired. He likes that his husband doesn’t think broken bones are sexy. It’s a good quality for a husband to have.

 

 

 

 

Hugh wakes up with a splitting headache, and he needs several minutes to orientate himself with his eyes closed. He’s home, the drumming in his head is just the headache, Paul is snoring slightly next to him, and he has a hand on Hugh’s stomach.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t feel sick, even though he must’ve been awesomely drunk last night. Also, someone - probably Paul - was so nice and closed the blinds last night so now all that comes through the window is the faintest shimmer of sun. Probably the same someone left pain meds and a bottle of water on the bedside table on Hugh’s side.

God, he lucked out so much with Paul.

Hugh takes his meds and snuggles his love again and keeps sleeping.

 

 

 

 

He wakes up again to Paul’s fingers scritching though his hair. He’s started to let it grow a little after finally taking his time off from work, and Paul seems to love it.

“Morning, love,” Paul whispers.

Hugh presses himself against him and breathes him in.

“Your hair is still all glittery from the parade.”

That’s good. That means they’ll shower together later, and Paul will laugh and wash Hugh’s hair.

“Good morning, Paul,” he says. Quietly, because his heart is full and hot and warm with how in love he is.

“Happy Pride anniversary,” Paul replies, squeezing Hugh’s neck. “Well, belated, anyways.”

“Pride anniversary?”

“We went to our first Pride five years ago. Remember? The first year we knew each other we couldn’t go because I got that stomach bug literally the day before. And after that we’ve managed to go together every year. Two years ago I got you from the airport and we left your stuff in the car after you had that ten hour flight that got delayed, but you wanted to go to Pride with me so badly you said you didn’t care about how tired you would be, and we stayed the whole time and you fell asleep in the car on the way home. Remember that?”

Hugh laughs.

“Yeah, and you later said I looked so cute you wanted to adopt me.”

“Well, it was true. And… remember last year?”

“Of course. I was just getting drinks for the four of us, and I was gone for just ten minutes, and in that time you managed to break that transphobe’s nose and knock him out.”

“He tried giving Jus the spiel about how he’s not a real guy. Nobody does that to my best friend.”

“I love how belligerent you are, Paul. You are such - and forgive me for saying it, but - you are such a little bitch about, you know, about that stuff.”

Paul’s laugh makes his chest vibrate. Hugh pushes himself up and smiles down on him.

“Seriously. And if you weren’t so attractive, I’d say you had some kind of Captain America complex.”

“Oh my god, Hugh. You know I love you, and I did choose to marry you, but the fact that you don’t think Chris Evans is hot will forever be a thorn in my side.” Paul shakes his head. “Seriously, him and -”

Hugh kisses him to shut him up. Just for fun.

Paul glares when Hugh backs off.

“Hey, I was saying something important! Kissing me when you don’t like my opinion is censor-”

Hugh kisses him again.

“And I swear, if you ever kiss me with morning brea-”

Hugh kisses him again.

“Paul Stamets, I love you so very, very much, and I’m beyond lucky that you’ve fallen in love with me too, and that you’ve married me, but you have a godawful taste in men.”

“I hate you,” Paul replies. “Go brush your teeth so we can make out.”

“Go brush yours.”

Paul rolls his eyes.

“Carry me to the bathroom.”

 

 

 

 

Hugh does just that, and afterwards they kiss until neither of them can breathe and their stomachs won’t stop growling, and then they go have breakfast.

Jus is still badly hungover, but apparently wherever he and Amelia ended up they had cocktails in the colors of the various pride flags, and according to Amelia he had at least five, so that explains that.

 

 

 

 

Also, Paul puts a new framed picture in his office. It has Hugh after he lost his shirt but still with the pride flag cape, wearing his skirt and the fishnets and the heels, glittery all over, laughing and holding a drink. Hugh is a little embarrassed, but then he notices the way Paul looks at that image, with so much fondness, and he’s not embarrassed anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope y'all enjoyed this, and please leave me a comment if you did <3  
> also come say hi on [tumblr](http://www.shroom-boi.tumblr.com)!


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